


untouched and still possible

by firebrands



Series: tumblr prompt fills [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebrands/pseuds/firebrands
Summary: for anon who prompted: seriously hurt Steve and Tony saving him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: tumblr prompt fills [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541533
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117





	untouched and still possible

“If you die I swear to god, I’m going to bring you back to life just to kill you myself,” Tony says fiercely. Through the haze of pain, Steve can still feel the cold press of the armor against his cheek, can feel his body bouncing along in Tony’s arms. 

“Okay,” Steve says softly, eyes still closed. He’s so tired. Everything hurts and he’s very, very tired, and a small, whiny side of him thinks, I didn’t sign up for this.

Steve’s jolted awake by the sound of wood shattering, and then he’s finally lying down on something hard. Tony continues to talk to himself, half-cursing Steve and half-hyping himself up: “Okay, Steve, listen, I’m going to take off your shirt now,” Tony says.

Steve shifts a little on the ground, trying to find some comfort where there is none. “This is a less than ideal situation for that,” he says, because it’s true: He’d imagined those words coming from Tony’s lips, yes, but it’s always after dinner and a stroll in the park, and then they’re back in the tower and Tony touches his waist and says, “I’m going to take your shirt off now,” and then Steve kisses him–

Steve feels like a rag doll with the way Tony is manhandling him, stripping him of the plain white shirt he was wearing to go on a run, all those hours ago, and then suddenly, explosions. 

Tony props Steve up on a rough looking throw pillow and says, “breathe in,” and Steve opens his eyes to blearily witness the way the shirt has made its way into the gash in his side. His shirt is barely white, anymore, and it’s _inside him_ , and Steve lets out a strangled yell as Tony pulls out the shirt, along with the chunk of former tree attached to him.

Tony gingerly takes Steve’s hand and presses it against the wound. “Stay awake for me, Steve,” Tony says, and his voice is shaking a little, and Steve is struck by how small Tony can look without the armor. The undersuit is sleek and pristine, and Steve moves his hand to touch. If he’s going to die, he’d like to do it knowing how that cloth feels, and by extension, how Tony’s body feels, under it. 

Tony huffs and takes Steve’s wrist, guides it back to the bleeding wound. “Press it down.”

Steve tries to touch, again, because everything’s going very fuzzy, now, which means he will pass out soon, and maybe, possibly, die. It isn’t melodrama; he knows this feeling well. If medics don’t come, if his wound isn’t closed, if he doesn’t get a transfusion–Steve laughs a little, but stops short from the pain. Ridiculous, how lucid he is. Unfair, more like it – how aware he is of everything, still, how Tony’s fingers are warm against his, how he can tell how bright Tony’s eyes are.

“Okay you know what,” Tony says, lifting Steve’s hand away and placing it on the floor, as if Steve can’t control his extremities, “you know what. I’m just. Okay.” Tony breathes in deep, and Steve smiles up at Tony. “This is new so we’ll just – live subject testing,” Tony rambles, and then suddenly: Bright light, and if Steve thought he was in pain earlier then he realizes he was sorely mistaken. 

Steve bolts upright from the pain, and Tony’s leaning back on his haunches, looking dazed. “That worked,” Tony says, looking relieved. 

Steve looks back down at his side, where the wound has been cauterized shut. “What?” he says. He touches it gently. “Tony.”

“Steve,” Tony says, massaging his temples with one hand. 

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve says, now on his knees in front of Tony, and Tony’s shaking like a leaf. Steve leans closer, pushes Tony’s hand away and cups Tony’s cheek. Tony’s eyes are bright. 

“You are _not_ allowed to die on me, Rogers,” Tony says, and it’s a thing he’s said before, a quip, one that makes everyone laugh and agree, except – he looks scared, now, and there’s no teasing in his tone.

Steve leans closer, touching their foreheads together. His hand slips down to Tony’s shoulder, where he’s finally rewarded to know what the undersuit feels like under his palm. They’re silent, breathing the same air, and when Natasha busts down the door to the cabin five minutes later, she finds them in the same position.

**Author's Note:**

> title from w.s. merwin's 'to the new year'
> 
> tumblr saw it first [here](https://firebrands.tumblr.com/post/190115715915/hello-this-is-not-a-college-au-prompt-but-could)!
> 
> i'm also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/firebrandss)!


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